Chapter 3
Fuck.
Rachel had that look in her eyes, the look that Isla recognized as precipitating way too many stressful nights.
She wasn't lying. Rachel really did astound her. For some reason, Rachel thought that she wasn't very smart, even when all the evidence available proved otherwise. And when Rachel felt like that, there was something in Isla that just couldn't let it go.
She wasn't sure what it was exactly. Maybe it was just the fact that the two of them had been through so much. They'd done a lot of growing up together, even if they hadn't grown up together. Rachel had cried on Isla's shoulder over shitty exes more times than she could count. And for some reason, some awful reason, Rachel had internalized their awful behavior to the point where sometimes Isla had to just sit her down and bluntly tell her otherwise.
You're not a bad person.
You're not a disaster zone.
You're not a chaotic mess.
Rachel really did have some very crappy exes.
She knew that even though her concerns about this project were valid—she really didn't want Rachel to burn out completely—there was a part of Isla that hated the fact that she'd been the one to dampen Rachel's excitement.
Finding that balance, between supporting her friend and making sure she didn't have a breakdown, was a fine line.
It also wasn't really Isla's job.
She listened as Rachel and Susie talked about the ideas for the market, and Susie recommended some sellers that Rachel contact. They were engaged, happy.
She just…
No.
No, that wasn't something that she could consider.
But even so, that traitorous voice at the back of her mind piped up. You could look after her. You could help and support her, and still make sure she got to bed at a decent hour.
That damn voice. It had become more insistent over the years, every time her protective instincts were roused, and each time she tried to shove it back where it came from.
That wasn't their dynamic.
That wasn't what their friendship was.
And yet…
For a moment, one fleeting moment, she let herself wonder what it would be like to hear Rachel call her Daddy.
Hi Daddy!
Look what I did, Daddy!
Daddy, this is my plan!
She was suddenly aware of silence, and looked up to see both Susie and Rachel looking at her curiously. "What?"
"Will you come with Susie? Staff the Stuffie Hospital London stall?"
"As if you could stop me."
Rachel gave a sigh of relief, but the look that Susie shot her was a little too close to knowing.
Isla pulled a face at her friend and turned back to Rachel. "So what's up first?"
"Cat's organizing the venue, and I'm contacting vendors. We're thinking a mix of kink- specific and Little-specific. And we're hoping to be able to spotlight queer vendors; that seems sensible, especially somewhere like Brighton."
"Definitely. Actually," said Isla, reaching for her phone, "I have the contact details for a couple of queers who I often refer some of our celebrity clients to. Wyn creates beading kits for Littles, Aubrey has arts and crafts sets, and then Skylar writes picture books, and has written customized ones for some of our clients in the past. I imagine that all three of them would be very open to being involved in an event like this, and I can certainly vouch for their work and professionalism."
Rachel beamed at Isla and she felt herself melt a little bit. Her sunshine girl was really the most adorable.
"And I've got contacts on the kink scene," said Susie. "There's a carpenter I know who specializes in kink furniture who'd be a great person to get—kink furniture is such a niche market over here that you usually have to order online. Having someone you can talk to in person about designs and ideas would be a great coup for your event."
"Amazing! I really can't wait to get started. It's going to be so much fun."